The Irresistible Bundle (113 page)

PAST LESSONS

~ DESIRAE ~

I was supposed to go to boarding school during my adolescent years. Mother had done her research, filled out applications, and paid the deposit... But Father wasn't having any of it. He had no intention of having me away for any amount of time. I was his shining jewel, his ace in the hole, his winning shot. If I was involved in the business transaction he always got what he wanted.

The closer I got to 18 the more brazen the requests. Business associates wanted to take me away to weekend getaways, be their arm candy for charity events - things that would garner attention. Mother had to intercede on more than one occasion, but it wasn't for my benefit. No. She was more concerned with the fact that people would notice that I wasn't of age yet. The Philippe Family wasn't known for public scandals.

I no longer celebrated my birthday but let's be honest here. I didn't really celebrate much of anything. Mother and Father couldn't be bothered with me during holidays. They had parties to attend, people to brownnose and things to amass. A party wasn't successful unless Mother or Father acquired a new material possession, met someone worthwhile, or solidified a business transaction. I wasn't even an afterthought unless I was being bartered. It didn't matter that I'd had 13 wonderful birthdays. Those memories were lost amidst the horrific days before my 14
th
birthday. Every positive memory before that was lost amongst the shadows and nightmares of my high school years.

I didn't have friends. I didn't have boyfriends. Father made sure of that. I suspect he had teachers and students on his payroll reporting to him my daily activities because the bastard always knew what had happened before I even got home from school. Any boys who showed interest were bullied, intimidated, and eliminated before I was even deemed worth fighting for. My catty, cold reputation was created for me by others. I generally avoided people and situations.

By my senior year of high school I'd learned to trust no one and accept being the social pariah. It didn't matter that I was the prettiest. The guys ignored the fact that I had the biggest set of jugs at school that were 110% real. People still talked shit about me even though I hadn't slept with a single guy from my school.

In order to survive I focused entirely on school and what it could do for me. I joined just about every feasible club to stay on school grounds for as long as possible. If I went home it meant Mother or Father could use me in whatever capacity deemed convenient to them. I wasn't safe at home or with my parents. I had to stay away as much as possible for as long as possible. If I wasn't at school doing homework, attending a club meeting, or practicing with the band's flag line, then I was volunteering in the community or doing odd jobs earning cash under the table. It wasn't always a fool-proof system but it did the trick more often than not.

My senior year of high school was probably the most brutal. Father was getting desperate knowing my time at home was coming to an end. He'd seen my submissions to various colleges - all far away from them. Father understood that his ability to keep me under his thumb was expiring. I didn't give a shit if I ended up attending the rattiest community college in the nation; as long as it was far away from them. I'd worked hard to keep my grades up. I hadn't taken any classes that would challenge or overextend me. There was no need to be an overachiever. I wasn't going to fucking Harvard or anything. I just needed a one-way ticket out of purgatory.

I'd learned to play the game. At least I could say that Father and Mother taught me that well. I got to know each man I was forced to be with. I researched everything and anything about them: their family history, professional résumé, and personal preferences. I used my best assets: youth, beauty, and my body to get what I wanted. Some of the men I considered sugar daddies, others sponsors, and the frigid few were deemed pure bastards.

Mr. Pearce would always remain President of the Bastards' Club. He was like that bad rash that never went away. Four fucking years I had to endure of that man; and each year got worse. I violently lost my virginity to him. He was the one who taught me that a man's dick was for more than just sticking it in her pussy. My mouth and ass lost their innocence to him as well. And it wasn't enough that he'd been my first to all those things. He was a tenacious, methodical teacher.

Mr. Pearce conditioned my body to his preferences. I learned the hard way how to take a dick all the way down my throat and desensitize my gag reflexes....

Because at one point in life I had them.

I puked all over him and myself the first time he tried that shit. I should've been grossed out and humiliated but I felt a sense of pride and vengeance ruining his custom-made suit with my vomit. But that victory didn't last long. The next time he "taught" me he ensured that I swallowed whatever came up my throat plus his salty semen. That had been one brutal lesson. I choked on my vomit for several minutes while Mr. Pearce just watched me. His dick stayed rammed down my throat until I got my shit together. It wasn't long after that that my body stopped automatically fighting back. Eventually I easily accepted his long length into my mouth, down my throat, and studiously applied all the techniques he instructed. I was a fast learner and he was a thorough teacher.

While most kids my age were just losing their virginities or having fast sloppy sex, I was trained to the specifications of the men who partnered with Father. These were the times when Father began to outmaneuver me. He'd pull me out of school early so I was forced to skip after-school meetings and rehearsals to ensure I didn't miss a "date" with one of the men. Father would personally cancel my volunteer shifts in order to ensure my weekend was free for whoever wanted to have me through the weekend. Father had such a tight hold on me that sometimes I looked forward to the time with the men, just to get away from the man who brought me into this world succumbing me to this life.

I'd like to say that I remembered every man Father obligated me to be with... That I still recalled every sordid detail of what they did to a poor underage girl. But I can't and I don't wish to make the effort to drudge up whatever nightmare is suppressed in my head. But of the countless men that entered and exited my life during Father's four years of terror, I distinctly remember a handful of men who taught me valuable lessons.

Mr. Pearce, my first and most thorough teacher. He had much to show me throughout those years and I had plenty to learn. He was one of the few men forever imprinted within my very essence. But Mr. Pearce wasn't the only business acquaintance that Father had.

Mr. McNamara was a teacher of a different caliber. He offered different opportunities to Father, therefore earning him different privileges with me. Mr. McNamara expected me to call him
Sir
and he preferred to use toys and weapons. I learned all about BDSM during my junior and senior year of high school. Not the cute kinky shit either. I'm talking about the hardcore, make you cringe, bleed, and have nightmares kind.

This man taught me about pain; giving and receiving. He taught me everything he knew, and that was a lot. Mr. McNamara was my teacher and he was my target during practice sessions. I learned to love and hate the sound of a cracking whip and smacking flesh. I learned to breathe through the pain and clear my mind. I learned how to relax my body just before the contact and ride out the pain. He never went easy on me, not even my first time. I'd come out of playtime with him sporting a bloodied and welted back, weak body, and tattered soul.

Mr. McNamara was an interesting man. He loved to control people and situations but on rare occasions he just wanted to let go. These were the rare times the tables were turned. These were the times that I learned another trick for my trade. He allowed me to take the reins. I learned to use floggers, whips, cat o' nine tails, and canes. I perfected my wrist movement to ensure the right amount of action to get the chosen implement maximum contact with just the right amount of pressure to dole out punishment. The whips became an extension of me. I felt whole and safe with them in my possession.

There were others of course, but not as memorable. Mr. McNamara broke me. Just like Mr. Pearce had. Just like Father had. They turned me into
this.
It's amazing I had anything left by the time I got to college.

ROOMY

~ DESIRAE ~

College is everything and nothing like I expected. Is it easy to get lost in an endless sea of people? Hell yeah it is. Was there a way to avoid having a roommate? Fuck no. But for once in my life it looks like things might be going my way. I don't have the roommate from hell. If anything she's exactly what I would've chosen as a roomy if I could've concocted one. The moment I opened the door to our shared dorm I unequivocally knew it would be one of two ways between us. Either we'd love or hate each other; extreme opposite spectrums, I know. It's sad to say but girls are such catty bitches and the one standing at the doorway before classes had even begun could've been either one. Fortunately we're like two fucking peas in a pod.

Like attracts like... She has good taste in clothes and guys. She isn't poor, isn't middle class; although she doesn't come from the kind of money my family has. She's fucking hot as hell; the kind of beautiful that even makes me squirm in my seat. And I'm not a fuzz bumper but I'd straddle the fence if she were on it. And then the fucking icing on the cake: the girl has a brother to die for. He is all hot Latin male. Good height, smoldering eyes, tanned skin with hair that I just wanted to rake fistfuls of before leaning in and fucking his mouth. Shit... Gotta change my panties again after envisioning that...

Classes are boring as hell but I muster through them to stay the hell away from
home
as much as possible.
Home.
What a fucking crock of shit. Isn't home supposed to be a safe haven; a place of refuge? Somewhere you'd go back to willingly and often? Home is incarceration; its purgatory and condemnation. Those four walls and the people within it loathe me, resent me, but need me. I have all the power yet I'm fucking helpless.

At least away at college I'm just another pretty face; another hot chick looking for a good time while getting her degree. No one knows my story. No one needs to hate or pity me here. I can start over. I can be someone else; someone better, someone worthy of something worthwhile.

My roommate, Carina, and I cling to each other those first few weeks of freshman year. We tread in unfamiliar waters with only each other as support. She has a hot piece of ass on the side but he never interferes with our budding friendship. Carina's exactly my kind of girl. She has this gorgeous jock-stud-player and she keeps him under her spell and at arm's distance: strictly fuck buddies. Thank you Jesus!

It's easy getting to know the other girls throughout the dorm. I'm not overfriendly with them but it helps decrease envious glares and awkward situations. Carina is oblivious to most of the girls around us. It's actually entertaining to watch her unknowingly dismiss people. She does it more gracefully, tactfully while I blatantly let people know where they fall in my spectrum of categories: cunts, twits, bitches, acquaintances, whores, friends, or nobodies. Really it's fairly easy to decipher who is what. I've been the outcast for so long that I've mastered the role of people watching. I can spot the fakes a mile away. The impostors stand out like a bad spray tan. In college I get to start over. The ability to handpick friends, foes, and fucks are within my power. I fucking love college.

Overall, I acclimate easily into college life. Guys come a dime a dozen. I coast through classes since I never picked anything challenging or overly dull. The deafening silence from home is both dreadful and delightful. Father won't give up so easily but for now he can't get me back there without outright abducting me. I can do with a mediocre but complacent life. Now if only a certain stud muffin stopped haunting my dreams...

It isn't like I purposely eavesdrop on Carina's conversations with her brother, Diego. I wasn't looking to hear if and who he's dating and fucking. Carina is just another loud-mouth Latina allowing the entire floor to hear her conversations. I'll admit there's always this pang of envy and wonderment whenever Carina and Diego speak. I've always been an only child... with no friends or close family members my age to spend time with. Life has always been lonely and it's a fate I openly welcome. I don't want the kind of attention Father showers me with, all for his personal gain. And Mother has nothing more to give me than her venomous hate and condescending words. The one and only time I braved having a friend and she... I... it's too hard to delve into those memories without dying some more each and every time.

Diego Lobos is like a bright star in the night sky. I can freely admire from afar. I can ogle and drool, as long as no one notices. He's my roommate's brother and if I have any hope of becoming her best friend I have to keep my distance. Diego is off limits in real life but he's the star of my dreams and the knight in shining armor in my hopes and wishes. Generally forgetting about some guy I barely know is easy but this isn't the case. Diego is the kind of guy who leaves a lasting impression. He's memorable, unforgettable and everything in between. Luckily for me Carina has enough drama and men in her life to keep me thoroughly entertained and distracted.

MEETING HER

~ DIEGO ~

Their Freshman Year of College

Although Carina and I weren't going to be together after high school she based her final college decision on my opinion and wishes. God, I love that girl. To make myself feel better and make her transition easier, I took her to college the week before she was set to move into her dorm. She already changed my life once when she came into my life and became my sister. Carina was about to change it again when she went off to college...

Carina's freaked out. The campus is huge and she looks every bit the intimidated freshman. I'm really glad I took the time to bring her myself. As wonderful and supportive as Dad and Mom are, they just would've made it worse. It's hard not to laugh at her but the fact of the matter is that I'll only be with her for a few days before heading off myself.

She crosses her arms and pouts hoping it'll affect me in some way but I'm immune to her charms. Many of my friends can't say no to her but I'm not one of them. She has to put on her big-girl panties and take this next step without me. It's time for her to branch out on her own without lingering in my shadow. I have no doubt she'll do well, make friends, and enjoy her college experience.

Carina whines about me not loving her and getting thrown to the wolves. I contemplate just dragging her in but eventually she'll grow a pair of titties and follow me into the building. I don't feel the least bit nostalgic as we follow some overly bubbly RA up to Carina's dorm room. My overprotective instincts want to coddle my sister and hold her hand the entire way. But I refuse to do so.

The bubbly RA knocks on a door confusing both of us. Dad's connections got Carina into the dorm a week earlier than most other students. There's no way possible my sister's roommate is already there. The moment the door flies open my jaw drops and my brain implodes. A rational part of me begs that the RA has the wrong room. This girl looks like trouble wrapped up in designer clothing. She's the kind of girl that turns heads, sucker punches you in the gut, and makes you wish she'd notice you. This can't be Carina's roommate because if it is, this campus will be in complete chaos in no time.

The RA introduces the roommates while I try to regain brain function. The sight of all those curves and lusciousness has my mind fragmenting. My eyes devour the miles of exposed creamy skin before lingering on the freckles that kiss her complexion. It's hard to ignore the tightening of my stomach as we lock gazes. She has the brightest green eyes I've ever seen. They flare with awareness and heat as she brazenly ogles me from head to toe. Her piercing stare burns through my skin blistering my core. Two fucking minutes... That's all it took for her to affect me. This girl is lethal; I hate it yet for some insane reason I love it.

"You know this is an all-girls dorm. Your hot studs gotta go." She says.

If my jaw hadn't already been gaping open her comment would've made it clunk onto the floor. She makes no qualms about her visual appreciation of me. I shift hoping my dick won't betray me. Carina has a lot of pretty friends but they've never fazed me. I stay away from her friends like she stays away from mine. It's one of our unspoken rules. It keeps the drama to a minimum and people quickly learn that we aren't the easy in to get access to the other sibling.

I must've missed the introductions because the next thing I know everyone's expectantly looking at me. Carina's new roommate smiles wickedly purring, "Pleasure to meet you." She doesn't make a move to shake hands or anything but her words feel like a physical caress. In the same blink it takes her to incapacitate me she also dismisses the bubbly RA. I don't know what Carina discussed with her new roommate because I was too transfixed with her lithe movements and swaying hips. She's aware of my silent attentions but doesn't encourage or discourage them.

Fucking hell. This is my sister's roommate for the year, if not longer. A few minutes in her presence and I'm not sure if I want to throw her onto the bed or run full speed out of the building. Sirens blare all around her warning me to proceed with caution while fireworks emanate from her being luring me in. She's fire and ice, heaven and hell... All in one package.

I have to get out stat.

"Where do you want your stuff?" I hope my gruff voice sounds more irritated than aroused. How fucking humiliating would it be if they realized how much the brunette with a collage of freckles affects me? I throw her stuff onto the bare side of the room hoping she gets my message.

Carina follows me outside to get the second round of her belongings. I'm dying to know what she thinks of her new roommate but my sister apparently doesn't have an opinion to immediately voice. Normally I'd wait her out but apparently it isn't meant to be. Words spill out of my mouth before I can rein them in. Why am I telling her what I think about her new roommate? Her surprised expression says it all. We've only been in her room for a few minutes. There really is no way to make valid assessments about her roommate's character in those few moments.

That week is both short and long. A few days isn't enough time to spend with Carina. It's fulfilling watching her discover new places on campus and making plans to do this and that. Although we won't be together I know she'll be alright. My automatic instincts are as her guide and protector but my little sister has grown into a wonderful young woman. She's only 18 but acts older and wiser than most of her peers. Life's thrown us several curveballs causing her to grow up faster than most kids. I'm at ease leaving her to start college on her own. We're only a phone call away.

Time disappears when it comes to spending precious time with my sister.... But the opposite could be said regarding her firecracker roommate. Fireworks, that's what I see and feel whenever Desirae is around. She's all fire and heat. She seems to explode at times, shining so brightly that I'm left completely breathless. Its amazing Carina doesn't notice my inability to properly function around her roommate.

Desirae is the perfect complement to Carina: beautiful, confident, independent, and brash. Where Carina stuns, Desirae obliterates. I've known and welcomed many breathtaking beauties in my life. Hell, I lived with one for several years. It's no secret that Carina enthralls a room with a simple smile. But Desirae devastates any indifference I've developed over the years.

Once upon a time I laughed at guys who gawked at my little sister and acted like complete Neanderthals. Now with her roommate I've become one of them. Those few days in Desirae's company are both painful and euphoric. Each day spent with her just adds to those base feelings. Desire, which is really what her name should've been, chagrin, excitement, and curiosity all seem to compete for attention in her presence.

I'm in trouble regarding Desirae. Fortunately for me, no one else seems to notice.